


Four Weeks

by lovenotes



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future Fish, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-06
Updated: 2014-11-06
Packaged: 2018-02-24 08:11:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2574395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovenotes/pseuds/lovenotes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It takes four weeks and a fire alarm going off at three in the morning for Haru to finally ask out the firefighter he totally doesn't have a crush on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Four Weeks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cixth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cixth/gifts).



> This is my gift to cixth for the Makoto Birthday Exchange 2014 who asked for anything makoharu :) This is actually my first fic for the Free! fandom so I apologize for any ooc-ness ;~; Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy!

**Week One**

“Tachibana Makoto.”

Haru starts, tearing his gaze away from the brunette sitting at the corner of the diner to look at Rin. He smirks at Haru and sets down his fork. It hits his plate with a soft clang.

“What?”

“That guy you’ve been drooling over for the past ten minutes. His name is Tachibana Makoto,” Rin clarifies, glancing back at the person in question.

“I don’t _drool_ ,” Haru says defensively, resuming his task of wiping down the front counter. Rin leans over the counter with a wicked grin, the jagged edges of teeth showing.

“You have a crush on him, don’t you?” Rin accuses, waggling a single eyebrow in what Haru thinks is supposed to be a suggestive manner. Haru scoffs.

“I do not.”

“Oh, yeah? Then why do you keep staring at him?”

“I wasn't. I was just... watching his reaction to the blueberry pancakes I made him. I was trying out a new recipe."

Well, it wasn't exactly a lie. Haru actually was using a new recipe he found in his grandmother's old cookbook, but that wasn't the real reason why Haru was staring at the brunette's – _Makoto's_ – face. Rin raises an eyebrow at Haru, clearly not convinced.

"He's a firefighter, you know. I've worked on a couple arson cases with him. He's a nice guy. I can introduce you to him," Rin says, pushing his empty plate across the counter. Haru pauses, glancing at Makoto again. Makoto sits in the booth by himself, headphones jammed into his ears and the aforementioned pancakes half–way finished in front of him. His brown shaggy hair seems to shine under the morning sunlight, his green eyes glittering. Haru's stomach flutters at the thought of having those green eyes trained on his.

"No, thanks," Haru finally replies, looking away.

"Aw, come on –"

"No."

"But –"

"I said _no_."

"Fine, if you want to just stare at him from behind the counter like some creep and not speak a single word to him, then go on right ahead."

For the rest of the week, that's exactly what Haru does.

 

**Week Two**

Haru's day did not have a great start.

He had accidentally slept past his alarm clock and was forced to skip his obligatory twenty minute soak in the bath or else he'd be late to work. He even had to skip making mackerel for breakfast, which automatically put him in a bad mood.

The sun had already risen and the small town of Iwaboti was beginning to stir by the time Haru was rushing out the front doors of his apartment building. He had stopped at a street corner when a stray alley cat suddenly decided to be an asshole and snatch his wallet out of his hand and scramble up the nearest tree, disappearing into the leaves.

So here he was now, fifteen minutes late to work and growling threats at a tree.

"I swear, if you don't come down here right now, I'm going to cook you for breakfast," Haru says just as two joggers pass him. They exchange horrified looks and speed up the pace of their run. The cat meows and Haru _swears_ it was mocking him. He's _this_ close to burning the damn tree down.

"Do you need any help?"

Haru twists his head around and freezes, his stomach doing a backflip. Standing behind him with his hands shoved into his jean pockets and a soft smile on his face, was Tachibana Makoto in all his glory.

Shit.

"Um –" Haru starts, trying (and failing) to not stare at the way Makoto's muscles seem to ripple under his black t–shirt. The guy was so much bigger up close, with his broad shoulders and defined torso. The cat meows again, pulling Haru out of his daze. He scowls.

Makoto glances upwards and chuckles. "I'm guessing your cat got stuck in the tree, huh? Here, let me –" Makoto gently pushes Haru aside and jumps, latching onto the lowest branch. It bends slightly with a small crack, but it holds. Makoto swings himself up and begins climbing. Haru couldn't help but wonder how the tree was supporting someone that big and muscular. The tree shakes a bit as Makoto jumps back down to the ground, leaves following after him. He straightens up with the cat cradled in his arms and a grin on his face. "Ta–da!"

Haru's eyes widen slightly in amazement. Makoto laughs, "You don't have to look so impressed. I'm a firefighter so I rescue cats from trees all the time. Also, I'm guessing this is yours?"

He holds out Haru's wallet, covered in saliva and bite marks. He takes it hesitantly with his thumb and forefinger, hanging it at arm’s length. Saliva slowly drips from the wallet.

"Thanks," Haru says, scrunching his nose as he wipes it with the hem of his shirt. "But the cat isn't mine. It's one those of annoying cats that like to hang out in the alleyway."

Makoto glances down at the cat in his arms. It meows and nuzzles its nose into Makoto's chest. "He's seems so sweet, though," Makoto coos, hugging the cat closer to him and rubbing his cheek against the top of the cat's head. Haru's slightly taken aback at how _cute_ Makoto looks right now. Which is weird, since "cute" isn't a word you'd use to describe a six foot tall male with muscles as big as Makoto's (which are, by the way, _very_ big).

Makoto looks at Haru again, as if just realizing he was there. His head cocks to the left, the corners of his lips turning down into a frown. "Wait, don't you work at Future Fish Diner?"

"Um, yeah," Haru says, a bit shocked and maybe a little elated that he recognized him. "I'm the chef there."

Makoto brightens – literally, _brightens_ ; a big grin replaces the frown on his face, his green eyes twinkling.

"I love Future Fish Diner!" he exclaims, "I go there all the time. Your cooking is just so delicious. I could never be that good."

Flushing slightly at the compliment, Haru looks down at his shoes and mumbles, "Thanks."

A hand suddenly appears in his vision, making him look back up.

"I'm Makoto."

"Haru."

Makoto smiles at Haru again, and despite being nearly thirty minutes late to work, he smiles back.

 

**Week Three**

Ever since their first meeting, Makoto started sitting at the front counter instead of his usual booth in the corner. He'd always come in with a bright smile and new topics to talk to Haru with.

And frankly, Haru have started looking forward to Makoto's visits.

Haru has never really been a huge talker. He'd always respond with either one–word answers or shrugs, making people find him unapproachable. But with Makoto, Haru doesn't have to talk. Somehow, Makoto was able to decipher what Haru was thinking or how he was going to answer with just one look. It was a bit unnerving at first and maybe a little annoying, but Haru quickly came to appreciate it.

But that doesn't mean Haru doesn't talk at all. In fact, he's pretty sure he has said more words to Makoto in the past week than the amount he'd said to his other friends and coworkers in the past month combined.

"What do you like to do on your days off?" Makoto asks one day. It was nearly six o'clock in the morning and Makoto had come in on a coffee run for his coworkers. The sun had just begun rising and the diner was empty save for them and an elderly couple.

"I like to swim," Haru answers, fixing up a batch of black coffee. 

"Really? I do too! What style?"

Haru couldn't help but smile a little at the excited lilt in Makoto's voice. It vaguely reminded Haru of a small puppy wagging its tail. "I swim free. You?"

"I swim backstroke. Well, used to I guess," Makoto says a bit wistfully. "I used to swim competitively in high school but quit when I graduated. I wanted to continue competitive swimming, but I guess I felt like I wasn't good enough for it."

Haru frowns at that.

"You shouldn't crush your potential before you try. That's something my friend would say," Haru hurriedly adds when a shocked look passes over Makoto’s face. He chuckles lightly.

"Perhaps," Makoto says, softly. Haru places the lid on the final cup of coffee and slides the tray across the counter. Makoto begins fishing through his pocket for his wallet but pauses when Haru places a hand up.

"On the house," he says. Makoto's eyes widen.

"Haru–chan, I can't possibly –"

"It's fine. Just take it. And drop the –chan."

Makoto looks at Haru reluctantly for a moment before sighing. He takes the trays into his arms and says gratefully, "Thank you. Really."

Haru nods, flushing a little.

"We should swim together sometime. It'd be fun," Makoto grins.

"Yeah.”

"I'll see you later, Haru."

"See you."

Haru watches as Makoto leaves through the front door, a warm and fuzzy feeling in his chest.

~

"Rin."

"Yes, Haru?"

"I think I have a crush on Makoto."

There's a pause.

"Knew it."

 

**Week Four**

The cold night air bites at Haru’s bare skin, turning him red and absolutely _freezing_. Not to mention, very pissed off. Haru watches as the residents of his apartment building litter around the parking lot like zombies. It was three in the morning when the fire alarm went off, blaring through Haru’s apartment and jerking him awake. Without a second thought, Haru had immediately run down the fire escape, knowing the hallways and stairs would be crowded with his neighbors. But unfortunately, halfway down, Haru realized he had forgotten to grab a jacket. So now, Haru standing outside in the middle of the night wearing nothing except his boxer shorts, desperately wishing for the firefighters to come sooner.

Suddenly, he hears the loud sirens of the fire trucks and Haru breathes a sigh of relief. Finally. The bright red vehicle pulls to a stop in front of the building and immediately three firefighters dressed in uniform rush into the building. The door on the driver’s seat opens and a familiar tall and built figure steps out. 

“Makoto?” Haru calls out before he can stop himself. Makoto’s head jerks up and his eyes scan the throng of people before landing on Haru. His eyes widen slightly and he quickly jogs over to where Haru was leaning against a lamp post.

“Haru! I didn’t kn – you’re not wearing a shirt.”

Under the dim lighting of the street lamp, Haru could see the dark red coloring Makoto’s cheeks and ears. He would’ve smirked if he was so damn cold. Instead, Haru only nods curtly before squeezing his arms tighter around himself, teeth chattering loudly.

“Oh my god, you must be freezing! Hold on,” Makoto jogs back to the fire truck and disappears inside. Haru waits patiently as Makoto reappears and returns to Haru’s side. In his hand, he holds a big red flannel, one of Makoto’s button ups that he wears often.

“It’s not much,” Makoto says, “But, it’s better than nothing.” 

Haru hesitates for a moment before snatching the piece of clothing out of his hand. He shrugs it on, the sleeves slipping way past the tips of his fingers. The smell of clean mint and pine trees suddenly overwhelms Haru's nose. He pulls tighter around himself; it really wasn’t much, but at least Haru had stopped shivering. 

“Thank you,” Haru mumbles out, glancing up at Makoto only to find him looking anywhere but Haru. His whole face is red again and Haru’s pretty sure it wasn’t because of the freezing air. 

“Y–yeah, no problem,” Makoto stutters. He clears his throat before looking down at Haru with a sheepish smile, still looking flushed. They stand together in silence and out of all times, Haru starts thinking about the conversation he had with Rin a week ago.

_You should confess._

_No way._

_Why not?_

_Because what if he doesn’t feel the same way? I don’t want to ruin our friendship._

_Take the risk anyway, Haru. You can’t stay inside your comfort zone forever. I mean, I was terrified when I confessed to Sousuke, but look at us now. You’ll never know unless you try._

_You’ll never know unless you try._

“Makoto –“

“False alarm, everyone! You may now return to your apartments.” 

A collective sigh of relief ripples through the crowd as they all begin to file back into the building. Haru pauses, clutching the hem of the flannel tightly. 

“What were you going to say, Haru?” Makoto asks, looking at Haru with a questioning smile. Haru gulps, feeling like he’s about to throw up. God, he’s never felt this nervous since performing at his first piano recital in kindergarten.  
“Do you –“ 

“Oi, Tachibana! Let’s get a move on!” 

“Just give me a second!” Makoto calls out, not taking his eyes off Haru. “Do I…?” 

“Doyouwanttogoonadatewithme,” Haru rushes out in a single breath. Makoto blinks. 

“H –huh?” 

Haru’s grip on Makoto’s flannel tightens even further. 

“Do you want to go on a date with me?” he repeats slowly, color flooding his cheeks. Makoto’s eyes widen almost comically, turning as red as Haru, if not redder. He doesn’t say anything for a long time and Haru’s beginning to regret ever saying anything. Everyone had already disappeared back into the building and Haru could tell that the other firefighters were getting impatient. Oh god, why did he even open his stupid damn –

“I’d love to, Haru.” 

Now it’s Haru’s turn to widen his eyes as big as saucers. “Really?” 

Makoto nods furiously, his mouth lifting up into a genuine smile that reached all the way to his green eyes. “How does Saturday sound?” 

“S–sounds good,” Haru says, still in a bit of shock. 

“Tachibana!” 

“Coming!” Makoto yells back, already beginning to walk back to truck. “So I’ll see you Saturday, then?” 

“Wait, don’t you want your –“

“Keep it. It looks good on you, Haru–chan.” 

“Drop the –chan,” Haru says immediately. Makoto just laughs, filling Haru with a warmth no one else could give.

“Saturday?” 

“Saturday.” 

Haru couldn’t wait.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on:  
> tumblr: sawamuras.tumblr.com or firelxrd.tumblr.com  
> twitter: @firelrd


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